


fill my lungs with sweetness

by marimoes



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barista Law, Fluff, M chapters are later on, M/M, Musician Luffy, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21586672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: A gentle strumming of guitar floats over the room, and for the first time all night, the room is completely silent. While the other acts went, people would talk quietly amongst themselves, typing on their laptops, and pay half attention; but not now. Now, everyone is captivated by the simple chords vibrating next to the mic.Fingers pluck and strum the strings into a familiar melody, and just as Law figures out where he knows the song from, someone starts to sing.
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar D. Water Law
Comments: 17
Kudos: 52





	fill my lungs with sweetness

**Author's Note:**

> This will likely end up having a full playlist, but the song that caused this to be written is [Bloom by The Paper Kites](https://open.spotify.com/track/41yIvlFgvGwxq8qTqAR7eG?si=KuQrs6HaSvydl6T0HhxYTA)

The scream of the steam wand burns in Law’s ear and he grumbles. If everyone wasn’t so damn caught up in _latte this_ and _latte that_ , then he could probably have gotten by with serving regular coffee.

Just plain coffee! What’s so wrong with appreciating it for what it’s worth? Law has had to stop going on his rant about black coffee to people, because he’s learned that they never listen. That, and some people really can’t stomach it, but that’s not his problem now is it? 

Really, though, he couldn’t have gotten away from lattes based on the crowd that’s in the shop tonight. 

His manager insisted that they try out an open mic event to bring more people in on a Wednesday night, and she was right. Every table is taken, along with people standing casually against the wall. The sign-up sheet is full, names crowding for their shot to perform, and Law hates it. 

He hates amateur musicians. 

There are some poetry readings, one guy attempted a not-so-tight five, but for the most part it’s everyone thinking they’re the _next hit_. Pianos are played, poorly, out of time with warbling vocals, and Law grits his teeth. What on Earth did he do to deserve this shift? 

Oh yeah, he needs the money.

Looking down at the list behind the bar, Law feels his eyes glaze over as he sees it’s the last act of the night. He’s so close to being free of this event, and now he knows to call in sick the next time management decides to put one of these on. Which will likely be soon, given how much foot traffic it’s created. 

A gentle strumming of guitar floats over the room, and for the first time all night, the room is completely silent. While the other acts went, people would talk quietly amongst themselves, typing on their laptops, and pay half attention; but not now. Now, everyone is captivated by the simple chords vibrating next to the mic. 

Fingers pluck and strum the strings into a familiar melody, and just as Law figures out where he knows the song from, someone starts to sing. His voice is low, melancholy in nature, and the song Law recognized as a popular piece from a few years back is now being made into a ballad. Words now holding a different meaning all together. 

Placing the pitcher of steamed milk down, Law looks up to the stage. It’s makeshift, and poorly made, given how little time they took putting this event together. Just a solid pallet covered in a rug, tucked away into the corner of the shop. On it now are two men, one on guitar and the other on vocals. 

The guitarist’s head is hung down, eyes shaded by his dark hair, but beneath it Law can see he’s smiling. With quick fingers, he strums a rift, letting his hands dance easily across the strings. They seem to bend unlike anyone else’s Law has ever seen, and after the wave of admiration starts to fade, curiosity replaces it. 

_How is he holding it like that?_

The guitarist taps his foot gently against the rung in the stool, keeping beat as the man next to him sings. His partner is standing, hands shoved into his pockets while he leans into the mic. The single light above shines on him, making his mint green hair warm, and the color oddly compliments him well. Law would’ve never expected a voice like his to come from a man like that. 

Their combination is hypnotic, keeping everyone still and focused until the song rounds out to a close. It’s only then that the guitarist looks up. Equally dark eyes peering through his hair, and his smile grows wider with the cheer of the audience. They demand an encore, and the singer looks over and tilts his head in silent question. 

Again, the guitarist starts playing, this time a faster melody and his smile stays wide. His partner starts to sing, and this time, Law realizes he hasn’t heard this song. The crowd is apparently in the same boat, because the grow quieter once again, focus drawn to the pair on stage. 

It’s a love song. Lyrics talking about how nice it would be just to be next to the person they love. That though the seasons change, and people come and go, but the constant is them. It makes Law tsk, stomach rolling with unwanted emotion, and he pours the latte into the mug. He scoots it across the counter to the customer, relieved that it’s likely the last thing he’ll have to make today. 

Leaning against the counter, back towards the stage, Law continues to listen. It’s nice, he supposes, to have the last group actually be good. But when a second voice joins in the chorus, he nearly breaks his neck turning so fast. He knows it’s the guitarist, but not for a moment would he believe it without seeing it for himself. 

There he sits, fingers still strumming as he sings the harmony. His voice is higher than his partner’s, which isn’t a surprise given how low his is, and it’s — airy. Like his lungs are too full, all of it crowding his tone as it leaves his mouth. It’s not bad — it’s just different. 

A compliment in tone, and Law isn’t sure why he’s so drawn in, but he dare not linger on it. 

It doesn’t matter how nice the set is. He’s exhausted and he wants to go _home._ He has an anatomy test in two days and if he doesn’t find some amount of time to study before then, he can kiss his ‘A’ goodbye. Not that he’ll let that happen. 

The song wraps up, fading off into a close and again the crowd claps. A shuttering of different noises echoing in the space. The pair bows, smile much wider on the guitarist face than the singer’s, and Law finds himself wanting to smile too. A sensation quickly stripped away as he realizes the mess that’s been left behind in the wake of the crowd leaving. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Law groans, pushing up the counter to walk onto the floor, “Actually, this is exactly what I expected. Why did I get my hopes up?” 

“Because, maybe, sometimes people can surprise you.” 

The words startle Law and he nearly drops the handful of small plates that are in his hands. It’s the guitarist, hovering next to Law as he rocks back and forth on his heels. Law hears a soft thump and discord of strings vibrating on his back — out of tune — created with each movement from the guitar bouncing on his back. Law looks him over, and realizes the man has extended his hand. Putting the plates back onto the table, Law’s hand is quickly grasped, being shaken against his will. 

“Monkey D. Luffy. My partner over there is Zoro.” Luffy says, still shaking Law’s hand, “Thanks for dealing with such a big crowd tonight. The hot chocolate you made was awesome.” 

Law stares at the man in front of him, eyes trying to take in more than they could on stage, trying to figure out if there is somewhere he knows him from — but he finds nothing. 

“Thanks, it’s just a recipe they use here. I didn’t do anything special to it, but thanks for being the only good set tonight. Really wrapped things up from the amateur hour that was going on.” Law says and picks the plates back up, hoping that it clues Luffy in that he needs to keep closing. 

“You hear that Zoro??” Luffy yells across to where Zoro is lounging in a chair by the door, “Coffee Man thinks we were the best that they had tonight!” 

Law winces as his voice rings in his ears, and knows that he’s going to be a lot less cordial if Luffy doesn’t leave soon. He still has to shut down the machines and put everything away for the night. If he doesn’t give them enough time then they’ll mess up, and he’ll get yelled at, and—

“Alright,” Law says, exhaustion heavy in his voice as he starts to back up, and Luffy turns to look at him, “I have to close up. So, come back for the next one. I’m sure they’d love to have you.” 

Luffy nods, unfazed by Law’s tone and takes a step back as well. He waves a quick hand before bouncing towards Zoro, and as he lifts up from the chair, Law’s stomach stirs. _Are they more than just singing partners?_

They leave, Luffy chattering up at Zoro as they go, and when the doors close silence sweeps over the shop. It’s nice, just what Law wanted, but something else tugs at him: curiosity. Walking up to the door to lock it, he lets himself look down the street. His eyes search for the men up the street — hoping they’re walking towards campus — and he’s right. 

Luffy is skipping, water being kicked up off the street with each step, with hands pushed into his hoodie pocket. His breath is fogging up the air around him in big billows, and Law knows he’s probably still rambling. Zoro also has his hands in his pockets, pace slower with a wider gait, and a slight smile rests on his face. Law watches carefully, desperate to see if they even brush against each other, and his ears burn. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Law murmurs to himself, “It’s not like I’m going to work at another one of these, anyways.” 

He goes back to cleaning, closing up the shop the best he can before slipping out the back door. The cold air bites at his nose, and he can’t get his scarf settled quite right over his face. Unlocking his car, he slips in, quickly cranking it so that he can try to get warm. 

The radio comes to life along with it, and the song that Zoro and Luffy played earlier is on. Back to its normal beat and brightness, it doesn’t sound right, and Law doesn’t like it. He prefers the softer version that they sang. 

Made it sadder. Law kinda likes sad. 

* * *

Weeks pass and Law goes about his business. He passed his test, managed to get out of serving during another open mic night, and is generally doing well. Usually around this time of year he gets sick, but he’s managed to stave it off. A stroke of luck he’s not used to. 

Relishing in it, he sits on a bench outside the chemistry labs enjoying the unnaturally warm weather for lunch, and pretends to not link it to global warming. Ok, he thinks about it enough to open an article on his phone, but he doesn’t go further than that. He won’t let himself. 

Today is going to be a good day. 

He has to work tonight — which blows — but he isn’t the closing shift, so he’ll get to actually get to sleep early for once if he plays his cards right. Everything is great. 

Everything, but the repetitive _clicking_ noise that keeps happening behind him. Turning, Law narrows his eyes to find the source of his disruption, and finds a familiar face. It’s the guitarist, Luffy, from the open mic night. _I didn’t know he went here._ _I guess it makes sense if he’s around._

Luffy is riding one of the smaller skateboards that Law keeps seeing around. “Penny boards” are what they’re called, if Lami didn’t lie to him when she came on campus last month. 

He watches as Luffy jumps, taking the small board with him by force alone, and skids across the railing. It’s impressive. It’s dangerous. Not that Luffy seems to care as he starts pushing himself back around to do it again. 

He jumps, but this time the board doesn’t settle the way that it’s supposed to between the wheels, and Luffy falls. A solid crack resonates, heard even from where Law is sitting, and suddenly he’s on his feet. His bag left behind, he doesn’t care, he’s moving. 

Luffy is laying on the ground, board wheeling away without him down the hill, and Law grabs it while jogging up. Is he unconscious? Is he bleeding? Law is scanning him the best he can before he even reaches Luffy, and his heart is going a mile a minute. 

Luffy’s eyes are squeezed shut, no doubt in pain, and Law kneels down on the ground next to him. 

“Hey, L-luffy, right?” Law says, hovering over him on the ground, hands shaking as he tries to figure out what’s wrong, “Are you awake? Can you hear me?” 

Luffy groans, opening a single eye, and a soft laugh blows from his mouth, “Ah, I fucked it up.” 

Law stares down at him, mouth open and hands still hovering, “Are you ok?” 

Luffy leans up all at once, hood nearly smacking Law in the face, and he snickers. Twisting, he pops his back, a cacophony of snaps up his spine, and Law winces. _I guess that’s a yes._ He hops up to stand, and holds out a hand for Law. 

Law doesn’t take it; he just stays, knelt on the ground with his heart still racing. Luffy could’ve busted his head open and now he’s back on his feet, offering to help _him_ up? Who is this guy and what the hell is he made out of?

“You fell straight back onto brick. You need to go to the health center.” Law says and Luffy’s hand falls down to his side, a small frown now tugging on his face, “I’m serious! You could have a concussion.” 

Luffy crosses his arms, hiding his hands entirely as he again rocks on his heels, “Oh yeah, coffee man? How would you know?” 

Law pushes himself up to stand, and now, hovering over Luffy again he remembers the feeling he got those weeks ago. That weird stirring in his stomach while he rocked in front of him after complimenting his hot chocolate. 

“It’s Law.” Law says and Luffy tilts his head, “Not ‘coffee man’.” 

“It’s the law that you know that I have a concussion? I’m no law student, but I’m pretty sure that’s made up. Nice try, _coffee man_.” Luffy huffs and holds out a hand, “Thanks for catching my board, though.” 

Law holds it behind his back out of Luffy’s reach, eyes narrowing, “I’m a med student. What you just did could cause a concussion and you need to go get yourself checked out.” 

Luffy isn’t listening, he’s already reaching around Law anxiously trying to pry the board from his hands. Law curses, holding it above his head out of what he thinks is Luffy’s reach, until he jumps. Clear off the ground, Luffy jumps up, curling his fingers around the back wheel and pulls it from Law’s hands. 

“Ah-hA!” Luffy cheers, tucking the board beneath his arm as he stumbles backwards in his landing, “I’m not going to the health center. It’s a rip off and besides, Chopper is pre-med, he’ll tell me if I’m ok.”

Law stares blankly at the words he just heard. Luffy isn’t completely wrong, the health center isn’t _great_ , but they would be able to diagnose a concussion, and maybe direct him to the hospital if it was bad. And who is Chopper?

“Pre-med doesn’t mean anything.” Law argues, and doesn’t even know why he’s trying to fight a clearly losing battle, “Just, _fine_ , you seem to be ok, but if you feel sick at all in the next half hour you have to go to the hospital.” 

“No.” Luffy says and places the board beneath his feet, “I’m going back to the loft. Campus is so boring anyways. Bye, coffee man.” 

As Luffy tries to skate past Law, he grabs Luffy’s hoodie, jerking him to a stop. Luffy whines, smacking wild hands up at Law’s, and when he realizes he’s not going to let go, stops. He grumbles, and Law turns him around with a tight hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s get something. That way, you get food, and I won’t have a guilty mind if you end up brain damaged.” Law says and Luffy’s eyebrows perk up at the mention of food, “Now what do you w-”

“MEAT.” Luffy’s arms stretch excitedly into the air, and his eyes glimmer, “There is a really cool food stand down the street. You know next to Shakky’s and Hachi’s? We could go there.”

Law knows where Luffy is talking about. It’s down, past where the campus ends and is tucked away into a corner. It’s not that it’s ‘sketchy’ per say, but it’s not exactly the nicest part of the street. He went to Shakky’s once for the dollar shot deal after he graduated undergrad, and he doesn’t really remember the rest. 

Hachi’s is good too, and Law isn’t really sure why it’s all the way down where it is. Maybe because the stand is small, and the area is cheap? All that matters is that it’s the best takoyaki you can get in the city, and Penguin is dying to go there at least once a week. The food stand that Luffy is referring to isn’t something he’s aware of though. 

“What place? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Law says and Luffy is already tugging on his hand, pulling him towards the street, “L-luffy, hang on.” 

Luffy doesn’t hang on to anything but Law’s hand as he continues to pull forward, force strong enough that it pops Law’s shoulder. Hearing the sound, Luffy slows a little but keeps moving, head turned to look back at Law. Excitement swims in his eyes and Law forgets about his arm entirely. 

“It’s really good!! Trust me. My buddy works there sometimes, so maybe we can get a discount if he’s there.” Luffy reasons, and Law starts following him a little more willingly, moving to walk next to Luffy rather than behind him. 

They follow the street, just as Law thought they would, to the end. Reaching it, he sees Shakky’s and Hachi’s, but still can’t seem to see the place that Luffy is referring to. Maybe, he dragged him down here just so he could mug him without so many people around. Maybe, he’s not who he says he is at all. 

_Which is who, exactly?_

Law realizes a little too late that he doesn’t even really know who Luffy is. Questions flood his mind without stopping, a valve bursting in the sink that you needed to fix but just stuck tape on. _Does he go to this school? Does he merely hang around on campus, doing tricks and nearly busting his head open? Where does he get the money?_ Where _is this food place?_

“Here!” Luffy says dipping behind a corner and they come face to face with a plain door, “Lemme tell them we’re here.” 

Luffy knocks on the door three times, his pace almost like a short song, and Law swallows. _What the hell is this an underground operation? All I wanted was to get him to focus for thirty minutes, not get sold into some weird betting ring._ The door opens, and a blonde man pokes his head out. 

His hair is shading half his face and he has a neutral expression resting on his face. What little Law can see of his outfit, he can see cufflinks. _Cufflinks?_ _What the hell is this place?_ Looking up above the door, in small, golden letters, is the name of the place: Baratie. 

“Oi, Luffy.” the man says and dips back inside before opening it up wider, “Come for lunch?” 

Luffy nods, his hair ruffling against his neck, and holds Law’s hand up between them excitedly, “Yeah! Two, please.” 

Luffy moves forward to slip through the door, pulling Law behind him, and Law resists pushing his hand into the doorframe to stop him. He doesn’t know anything about this place or what is going to be inside. But something about Luffy makes him trust, and so Law lets him pull him through. 

Light shines bright the second that Law steps inside, and nearly blinds him in the process. The kitchen they’re now walking through is all chrome. Shiny and clean, covered in cooks all working quickly. Fire burns high on the pans, smothered a second later, things are being placed gently onto plates in specific designs. 

The little hole in the wall is apparently anything but, leaving him mad he’s never found it in the first place. They continue through a door into the actual dining room, and Law’s eyes again struggle to catch everything. The walls are lined with white wallpaper, gold designs gleaming gently on them, leading down to pristine tables. 

It’s then that he realizes it: Luffy took them through the back door of the fancy French restaurant on the street over. The one he’s never so much as bothered to look at because it hurts his wallet to think about. The one that his dad tried to take him to for graduation, but he told him it cost too much. Law wouldn’t even read up on it. 

“ _Luffy_ ,” Law hisses, and Luffy continues pulling them forward to a table in the corner, “Luffy, what the hell are we doing here?” 

Sanji shows them to their seats and Luffy happily slips into the chair, just as he has no doubt done several times. He gets a nod to Sanji, answering an unspoken question and it bites at Law. What exactly did he request? How the fuck are they going to pay for their food here?

“Luffy, what are we doing here. You said a food stand not the best five star restaurant in the city.” Law says, trying to not let his eyes catch the prices on the wine list still sitting on the table, “How are we going to pay for this? There is a reason I’ve never even bothered to learn this place’s name!” 

Luffy places his head into his hands on the table, but quickly drops them to his lap after hearing a short whistle from his side. Sanji is walking back with a tray, a large bottle and a small basket are on it, and Law is pretty sure that his debt is heaving in his bank right about now. 

“Sparkling water, and fried bits off of the calamari that we can’t serve. Your favorite.” Sanji says, placing the basket down in front of an eager Luffy. He works to pour the water into equally nice glasses that he brought out along with everything, and Law feels like the bubbles popping at the top of the glass. 

“Thanks, Sanji!” Luffy says, eyes pinching together and Sanji smiles back, “Do you have any scraps of that one beef thing I like? Coffee Man thinks I have a concussion, and isn’t convinced that I’m ok.” 

Sanji’s single visible eye widens and Law realizes about the same time that he does that Sanji has no idea who he is. The feeling still mutual while Law gingerly picks up the glass of water in front of him. Light strings play from somewhere in the ceiling, and while usually somewhere like this with such a calm atmosphere would appeal to Law, all he wants to do is leave. 

“A concussion?” Sanji asks, dropping the tray down to his side, “What did you do this time, dumbass?” 

Luffy snickers and pulls his board up on his other side, wiggling it. Sanji sweeps to look over at Law who is still nursing the sparkling water, and when he lifts his curled brow, Law nearly chokes. 

“He fell trying to do a trick. Hit his head straight against brick and I wanted to make sure he was ok. I’m currently in the med school on campus,so I’d like to think I know what I’m talking about.” Law explains and Sanji’s gaze shifts back to Luffy, “He seems to be fine though. I’m not sure what he’s made out of, but it’s incredible.” 

At this Luffy snickers, but it’s muted by the bits of calamari being shoveled into his mouth. Sanji hits him on the back and he swallows all at once with a grimace. One that says both, ‘That wasn’t enough’ and ‘I’m sorry’, all at once. What a handful of a friend Luffy must be. 

“Well, I’m glad you tried to look after him. I think we all kind of gave up on that after he got hit by a car and came out without any scratches.” Sanji murmurs and Law watches as he reaches for his breast pocket only to grumble. _A smoker._ Interesting. 

“Wait.” Law says, mind catching up as Luffy gently tugs on Sanji’s suit, “You got hit by a car and came out of it with _nothing_. As in, you were walking on the street and got hit, and you were fine.” 

Luffy nods quickly, hand still tugging on Sanji’s suit and when he jerks out of his hold he whines, “Sanji...I’m dying.” 

Sanji presses a hand against Luffy’s face and extends the other to Law. He takes it with hesitation, and shakes it firmly. Sanji is obviously the civilized one of the group, no doubt about it considering his place of work. 

“Sanji. I’m in the culinary school, you know the one in the city? I’m doing that and working for my pops until I can have my own place. It’s good practice.” Sanji explains and Law feels himself smile a little. 

It’s nice seeing someone so driven apart from himself. Doesn’t happen too often. Sanji takes his hand back and when they both turn their attention to Luffy, his forehead is pressed against the table, and he isn’t moving. _He isn’t moving._

Law reaches across the table, nearly knocking both glasses over and the moment he touches the side of Luffy’s face, he shoots up. His face looks weary, like he’s drained, and Law’s heart speeds up. _I knew it. I knew that he got a concussion._

“Luffy…” Sanji sighs, gathering Luffy’s hood in his hand, “I’m going to feed you, stop being so dramatic.” 

Law’s eyes widen, anger starting to buzz in his veins and when he opens his mouth to speak against Sanji’s nonchalance, Luffy groans. A weird hum of a jilted song, and he smacks his lips. 

“But I’m dying...Sanji.” Luffy whines, and Law freezes. _Is...this...is he just being dramatic?_

Sanji looks over and catches Law’s eye. No doubt large and shiny with concern, and he hits Luffy in the head, causing him to return to normal. All sluggishness has disappeared all at once, gone with the back of Sanji’s hand. _He’s fine?_

“You’re being dramatic?” Law says, almost yells but catches himself at the last moment, causing his words to come out strained, “Can’t you take anything seriously?” 

Pushing up from the table, he gives Sanji a quick nod of thanks, which he returns with a calm, knowing expression. Law isn’t sure where he wants to go, but he has to get out of here. His nerves can’t take anything else, and he still has to work later. Not that either of them care. Why would they?

“No!! Coffee man, come back.” Luffy huffs pushing back out of his chair chasing after him, and Sanji places a hard hand on his shoulder, “Sanji. Let me go.” 

Sanji pulls his hand back as Luffy requests, but Law is already gone. Slipped back through the kitchen, and on the street. When Luffy makes it back out, Law is nowhere to be found. Now lost in the bustle of classes changing and people going to lunch. 

It makes his stomach flip, twice, each harder than the last. Where he was once filled with exhaustive hunger, it’s been replaced with something else. Something that once Luffy has in his head he can’t seem to get rid of until he resolves it: curiosity. 

Pulling up his phone, Luffy pulls up the internet to search the coffee shop again, but finds that it’s still loaded on the first of a hundred open tabs. The front page has their calendar, and on today’s date there is a little icon of a microphone. Exiting out of it, he presses the top contact on his favorites, and paces in the street as it rings. Hearing that dreaded buzz of uncertainty until the other side of the line clicks. 

“Hey, Zoro. Wanna play again tonight?” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Did I start another chapter project? Yes. Do I regret it? Not yet. 
> 
> Tumblr: @noswordstyle  
> Twitter: @__moes__


End file.
